Wreck and Rebirth
by scullyseviltwin
Summary: It wasn't a reckless thing, but it would have looked that way to anyone else.


_Cheesefires... I top my hat to you. To you as well Radish. Damn it, now I want salad.

* * *

_ It wasn't a reckless thing, but it would have looked that way to anyone else. Even as he pulled her shirt brashly over her head, his movements were measured, sure.

She was panting in such a wonderful way, her chest rising and falling against his as he moaned and swept her up against the wall and kissed her deeply. His hands were in his hair, nearly pulling it out. She couldn't seem to get him deep enough into her. Sucking harshly on his tongue, she dug her short nails into his scalp, wrenching another lean moan out of his throat.

She swallowed it immediately, the sound filling her up, warming her. Fantastic, that's how she really felt, pressed up against him, lost in the sane insanity of the moment. The world was spinning and time kept on tick, tick, ticking away but in that lone corner of Grissom's apartment, everything was complete and utter controlled chaos. It was an upheaval of everything known to man, in such a regimented and stable way.

He grabbed her under her jaw and pulled up, forcing her mouth up and open. He couldn't seem to get enough of her mouth, to document the delightful tastes and textures of her tongue. He couldn't get enough; he knew he wouldn't be able to get enough, that was why he was so hesitant to begin this, this thing between them.

His teeth worried over her lips delicately and felt her puffed gasps of breath wet his lips. The definition of hot and heavy, her breath on his skin. God, he was in deep. Grissom glanced up, eyes glittering, watching as tiny pinpricks of sweat began to lick her skin. She was hot, almost melting, as he held her steady against the wall and allowed his tongue to flick across every little crevice in her smile.

His legs were beginning to buckle but he couldn't keep his lips off of hers. If he pulled away, there was a chance that he would open his mouth and say something unbearably stupid. But, when her feet once again touched the floor, her hands were on his face, bringing their mouths back together immediately; it seemed she wasn't going to give him the chance to speak.

Smart girl, smart, smart girl.

Her semi-bare chest was pressed to his clothed one, but he didn't care, he had the naked yearning of her mouth, of her tongue.

Suddenly, she sobbed into his mouth, body bouncing into his. She was bouncing up and down on her feet, kissing him, giddy with excitement. "I don't know where to start," she murmured as she clutched his top lip between her teeth.

Grissom laughed against her, arms wrapped fully and solidly around her hips. "'T tha-a-a beginning," he sputtered out as she pulled hard on his bottom lip. Everything was ethereal. Everything was so real and so utterly, completely not. He was sure his nerve endings were buzzing, actually vibrating beneath his skin. It felt like he was waking up, like his body was shaking into life for once.

"Back ten years?" she rasped out as she swung around and pinned him to the wall. Her lips found a fine spot on his neck and began sucking in earnest. Yeah, he'd have a hickey, no, he really didn't care. Not with the way he was holding her head to him tight, not with the way he was babbling incoherently. Her tongue laid flat on his skin and made a trail from the collar of his shirt right to his ear where she nibbled and sucked and bit and kissed until her mouth went dry with the need for his kiss once more.

Instead of kissing her, his tongue came out and licked all around her lips, grabbing her ass and pulling full onto his hardness. "Not, gah, jesuh-not that far, Sara, bedroom?"

And like that, like a snap of the fingers they were tumbling between the sheets on his bed, temperamental early morning light tip-toeing in to prod at their skin. His eyes were intent, but so were hers. They were both slightly embarrassed at something, they couldn't place what and it wasn't enough for either of them to slow down.

Her hands, weathered and very imperfect trailed over the skin of his pectorals and back down to his stomach, pulling his shirt up and off. Oh, her hands, so ragged and... perfect, teasing his nipples, plucking gently put distinctly on his heart strings. Her tongue was on his chest, his stomach, but she couldn't seem to keep away from his mouth, from his lips...

Sara allowed herself the small luxury of a smile against him, and after moment unleashed a laugh that he lapped up eagerly. This was a dream; this was her dream, the wondrous sanctuary of his mouth and body, all there for her.

Short, deliciously short nails skated up her back, rendering a tiny shiver from her; she fluttered in his arms, gasping into his mouth and sighing. Her thighs flanked his, heat transferring from one to the other and easily, she slid her calves up and down his, alternating, willing herself to believe that she'd finally grasped the edge of her need and reined it-reined him-in.

Grissom didn't seem to want to close his eyes, no. They fluttered shut briefly and then opened once more, categorizing her movements, watching her subdued frenzy unfold. Strands of hair fanned out and stuck to the slight sheen of sweat on her neck but he brushed them up and away, sensing her discomfort. She loved him in that instant, from that tiny gesture he made to make her more comfortable.

While she was occupied with the salt deposits on his neck, he made quick work of her bra, his hands sliding firm strokes over the naked skin of her back. Open, open, his eyes stayed so very open, watching her face twitch and tingle from agitation to smiles to arousal.

His fingers snuck around her waist, toying with the waistband of her slacks leisurely.

There was one life, one life he could live... and if he could have gone back in that instant and lived out the better years in the warmth and deep-down-in-his-bones perfect arms of Sara Sidle, he would have. Really and truly, in that instant, he would have divested his past just to find out what time in her arms felt like.

But all of that was for later, that was for the after. And there would be an after; there'd be loads of after and again and future and plans and plans and dates and touches and kisses. There would be an after forever as far as he was concerned.

His index finger dipped down the front of her pants and her eyes slid open, finding his. Their eyes latched as he pressed down until he'd felt her brazen heat. He touched her once and retreated.

Moments later their pants and undergarments were flung off in a frenzy of limbs and wet kisses.

And time sped by while standing still and they were together in a gasp and a heartbeat. Mouths hung open and sucked in air, breathed as he moved within her, making her feel alive for the first time in ages. That made her smile and that made her laugh, made her meet him beat for beat.

He swallowed the smile off of her lips, but they grinned together when they felt themselves give their souls over to the other. It was everything, it was nothing.

It all ended with a kiss.


End file.
